


Your Touch

by WritingsOfAHobbit



Series: Thranduil/Reader Stories [12]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfAHobbit/pseuds/WritingsOfAHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the tumblr prompt: Can I do a Thranduil request? :) so the reader is really touchy feely and really flippant about physical contact but Thranduil is caught of guard by it and reader doesn't even realize it but Thranduil also like really loves her touch? (; maybe Thranduil gets jealous too cause the reader touches everyone? Fluffy please ;:):):)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Touch

AS the daughter of a wealthy architect, you spend the majority of your days travelling from one place to another. Lothlórien is your home, but you have lived in Rivendell just as long. Now you have come to the Greenwood, accompanying your father as he draws up designs for a new hall in the woodland realm. You are quick to find friends, unhappy about being alone in a strange place. A few noble maids and a guard or two sees that you have enough company to get you through the upcoming months.

Your father is keen for you to learn his work, so encourages you to accompany him in audiences with the King. You find that you don’t mind them, as the king is as nice as anyone else that you’ve me. He has a gentle smile and a warm heat, making you struggle to see why his subjects often make such comments about his temper. Truly, you have never come across a kinder elf.

“The two of you do get on quite well.” Your father happily comments as he hands you some scrolls to take to the king.

“Don’t read too much into that.” You warn your father. He has a habit of over-reacting.

You find the king in his throne room. Well it’s less a room, more a suspended platform. Either way there’s a throne. He’s dealing with a sheepish looking pair of young elves who keep glancing angrily at each other.

“Caught fighting on the steps down to the cells.” One of the elves at the foot of the steps to the platform informs you. “One of them nearly tumbled straight into the river. Nasty business. They’re lucky the king is taking the matter so lightly, otherwise they could be taking a trip down to the river anyway!”

Once again you were taken aback the mention of the king’s infamous temper. How could he truly be so bad? Not once had he said something even remotely malicious towards you.

You wait for another ten minutes until it becomes clear that the king isn’t going to be done anytime soon. He doesn’t even show signs of realising that you’re there. You lay a hand on the arm of one of the elven guards, drawing his attention. “Tell the king I’ll speak with him later.”

The guard nods and you head back towards the chambers that you’ve been designated. You’re halfway there when you hear someone calling your name.

“Y/N, wait!” You turn to find king Thranduil hurrying down the corridor towards you. Well, he doesn’t really hurry anywhere, but he certainly seems to be making an effort to catch up. “I apologise for my earlier neglect. You came to see me?”

“Neglect?” You laugh, patting his forearm affectionately. “You were dealing with your people! That’s hardly _neglect_.”

“Regardless, you came to see me and I didn’t acknowledge you. What is the matter?”

“My father wanted me to deliver these to you.” You hold out the scrolls and the king takes them, his hand brushing yours lightly. “I believe they’re the slightly more in-depth plans for the western wall.”

“Thank you. Are you returning to your quarters?”

“You nod. I have nothing else to do today.”

“The king nods. I was about to visit the gardens. Would you like to join me?”

“You grin. I’d be more than happy to!” You link your arm through the king’s, allowing him to lead the way.

Unbeknown to you, the king’s mind was in turmoil. You caused him a great pain, more than he had ever thought possible.

Most elves had boundaries, especially when it came to touch. Such a display of affection was reserved only for the closest of kin, but you touched him, a complete stranger, as though you had known him all your life. A pat on the cheek, a hold of the hand, a friendly hand on a shoulder, your arm through his. It was so unusual, so unheard of, that he didn’t know what to think of it.

No. That was a lie. He _did_ know what to think of it. The first few touches had startled him almost to the point of repulsion. It wasn’t that he deemed himself higher than you, for that was not the way he was raised. No, he just caught him by surprise. Such a casual touch, made by no accident and made many times a week.

He should’ve corrected you, told you to restrain yourself and learn some manners, but he hadn’t. How could he tell such an exquisite creature that he did not welcome their gentle touches? For truly, you were the most beautiful creature he had laid eyes on, and he now craved your touch like a fish craves water.

However there was a problem. Your touch wasn’t just reserved solely for him. You gave it freely, touching all of those you came into contact with. Not twenty minutes ago you had laid a hand on the arm of a guard, and laughed with him as though you had known each for more than thirty minutes. It sparked something inside of him so sharp, that it could be nothing but jealousy.

Oh, how he _hated_ the feeling. How he hated you for making him feel it.

How he loved you.

But how was he ever to tell you? You, who was so caught up in your own happy little world that you hardly recognised the conflict of other. You, who’s smile could light up the darkest night. You, who right now was set on feeding the jealously inside him.

With no inkling to the working of Thranduil’s mind, you reached out and caught the hand of one of the Lord’s you had befriended over the past months. It stopped both parties in their tracks, though one for a completely different reason to the other.

“Has your sister reached Rivendell yet?” You ask your friend, still holding onto his hand.

“No, but she expected to arrive tomorrow morning. I’m on my way to send a reply to her now.”

“Then forgive me for detaining you.” You smile and release his hand. Your friend nods his head to you and bows to the king before continuing on his way.

Thranduil continues to lead you towards the garden in silence. The silence remains until you’re walking past a bed of roses, at which point Thranduil stops you and releases your arm.

“Thranduil?” You question with a frown. “Are you well?”

“Thranduil tilts his head. I am.”

“Then why have you stopped?”

“I’m afraid I must confront you on something.” Unease grows quickly within you. It grows even more so when you reach to lay a reassuring hand on his arm but he brushes you off. “Thranduil?

“I would like for you to answer a question for me.”

“Of course I will.”

“Why do you touch everyone you meet?”

You open your mouth to reply, but close it again when you cannot find an answer. Helplessly, you shrug. “I just do. I think it gives me comfort? I don’t think of the social repercussions of my actions.”

“So you are aware what such actions may be interpreted as?”

You nod sheepishly. “Yes, but it’s a habit that is hard for me to shake.”

“You must stop, before you get yourself into trouble.”

Shame colours your face and you duck your head to try and hide it. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Now see, I’ve upset you.” Thranduil takes a step forwards and places a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “I know that hearing you need to change something about yourself is not easy, but it is better that you’re told to change, rather than told how to get out of trouble. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod and Thranduil moves his hand from your chin to your cheek. “For what it’s worth, Y/N, I quite enjoy your touch.”


End file.
